Hanta Virus
by Spnlove101
Summary: It shouldn't have been a big deal. Dean and Sam had squatted in boarded up houses plenty of times. This shouldn't have been any different. It isn't until weeks later that the symptoms start, and it isn't until days after that, when Sam can't breathe, that they finally understand the consequences. Hanta virus. Lots of hurt!sam and worried!Dean!
1. Chapter 1

**Okay so this is filling a prompt on Oh sams birthday comment fic meme!**

_PROMPT: It shouldn't have been a big deal. Dean and Sam had squatted in boarded up houses plenty of times. This shouldn't have been any different._

_This time, though, they needed a warded room. Before it could be warded, though, the walls and floors had to be cleaned. Dean left the cleaning and warding to Mr. Neat Freak OCD symbol dictionary and went out to interview witnesses._

_It isn't until weeks later that the symptoms start, and it isn't until days after that, when Sam can't breathe, that they finally understand the consequences. Hanta virus._

Sam and Dean had just driven into a quiet town to investigate a series of mysterious deaths and they had been forced to stay in some long-abandoned house. It wasn't exactly 5-star accommodation but it would do; besides they'd squatted in tonnes of houses before so this shouldn't be any different. Yet they both knew it was of course, this time they were being hunted down by heaven and hell alike and that meant only one thing: warding and lots of it. Cas had put the angel warding on their ribs but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Only one problem: they needed the room to be clean before they could put up the protection. However what they were stuck with couldn't be further from "clean;" there were what looked like rat or mouse droppings everywhere, the rooms were covered top to toe in layers of dust and the place stank of stale piss.

"Well Sammy, looks like you're going to have your work cut out for you today" Dean said with a smirk as he picked up his jacket and keys.

"What Dean? You're not leaving!"

"Well someone's got to interview the neighbours, better you stay here and clean up while I go out, that way you won't get caught up in your creepy OCD neatness obsession thing"

"Deann," Sam pulled his best bitchface but Dean was already out of the door. He didn't see any point in wasting time feeling sorry for himself, so he just got on and cleaned until the room was unrecognisable from the thing they had entered that morning. In fact, he had been so engrossed in his hard work that he hadn't noticed the time, looking at his phone now he could see that Dean had been gone awhile. Don't panic, he told himself, he's probably just busy. Sam quickly dialled Dean's number and waited for Dean to pick up, he got a reply on the third ring.

"hey sam, what's going on?" Sam could only just hear Dean, it sounded like Dean was with a bunch of people, "I'm kinda in the middle of something?"

"Where are you? Who's that with you?" Sam asked, he was relieved that Dean sounded fine and unhurt but was still curious about what Dean could have being doing for so long.

"Got a bit distracted," Dean said as Sam heard feminine giggling on the other end of the phone line. He sighed as he put two and two together, "Gotta go, see you later" Dean said and then promptly hung up, leaving Sam alone to finish the warding.

* * *

It was weeks later and Sam and Dean were staying in a lousy motel waiting for any news on the angels; they still hadn't heard from Cas. Sam had woken up feeling not that great, he felt sore and achy all over especially his back.

Dean could tell something was up with Sam, he was moving much more slowly than usual and every so often he would catch Sam covering up a wince that he obviously hadn't meant to show.

"Hey man, you feeling okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sam grunted.

"You sure? Cause it looks like you're in pain. You hurt anywhere?" Dean started to move towards Sam, noticing his flushed face and drooping eyes.

"Yeah, my backs just a bit sore, must have slept on it funny." Sam hoped his reply would be enough for Dean to stop worrying. If he told him the truth, that he felt shivery and that he felt more and more exhausted as the minutes ticked by, he knew that he'd be tucked in bed with Dean hovering over him with endless pills and soup before he even knew what was going on.

Two days later and he was regretting not saying anything to Dean. Everywhere ached, he felt dizzy all the time and was currently leaning over the toilet trying to be as quiet as he could while he retched not wanting to wake Dean up at 3 in the morning.

Unfortunately, it seemed as if his plan hadn't worked because a few minutes later, Sam heard the door creak open and weakly lifted his head to see Dean walk in and crouch next to him.

"Aww Sammy, you should have told me you were feeling so bad," Dean wished Sam had told him about this, he always used to tell him if he was sick or hurt. Now though, Dean had to force his little brother to tell him what was going on it that freakish body of his.

"You nauseous? Dizzy?" Sam groaned and nodded his head. God he felt like shit. "Does it hurt anywhere?" Dean listened for Sam's response as he looked around the grubby bathroom for their well-used thermometer.

"My tummy hurts a bit," Sam said, sounding lost and God if that didn't break Dean's heart.

"Okay champ, open up," Sam did as Dean asked and felt the thermometer in his mouth a moment later. He just wanted to sleep…

"nuh uh Sammy. You can go to sleep in a bit, let's just get you cleaned up and some medicine in you. You think you're okay to stand?"

Sam wasn't sure but he'd give it a go, he wasn't going to mope around on the floor all night. He grabbed Dean's hand and pushed himself up, using the toilet as support.

Once settled in bed after taking some pills, Sam dozed off into a fitful sleep; leaving Dean awake and trying to ignore the feeling in his gut that this was more than just a stomach bug.


	2. Chapter 2

3 days later and Sam and Dean were sitting in the waiting room of the local clinic. Dean was trying to keep it to himself, but he was so worried now; he'd expected Sam to get better after a day or two but he'd just got steadily worse and worse so Dean had insisted that Sam got checked up.

Sam was secretly pleased that Dean had bought him, he was beginning to think there was something seriously wrong with him; this wasn't like any stomach bug or sickness he'd had before.

Just then there thoughts were interrupted by an elderly doctor calling them forward. They got up, Dean helping Sam so that Sam hardly had to do anything, and made their way over to the room where the doctor had just come out of.

"What seems to be the problem?" the doctor unenthusiastically said as Dean got Sam sitting down on the bed. Dean immediately didn't like him, it looked as if the doctor couldn't be bothered to be there, so Dean kept an eye on him to make sure Sam was getting the best treatment.

"I've been sick for nearly a week now" Sam started with a cough, "just thought we'd get it checked out.

"What symptoms has he been experiencing?" the doctor said to Dean as he got out his stethoscope and started to listen to Sam's chest.

Sam was annoyed that he was being ignored, he was sick not invisible; nevertheless Dean answered the doctor, "uuh he's been throwing up, dizzy, his stomach hurts and he's had a fever for a few days now"

"Well his heart and lungs sound fine, it's just a long-lasting case of the flu," the doctor handed Dean a prescription and ushered them out of his door. Dean was pissed, they hadn't got any answers and Sam was no better than this morning. _huh,_ Dean thought, _why am I complaining that it's only the flu?_ Maybe it's cause we can never seem to catch a break, hopefully this was going to be one of the times where it was as simple as it seemed.

* * *

Sam was getting more and more convinced that this wasn't the flu, he had been skeptical even at the doctors but now it wasn't just the vomiting; he was finding himself out of breath from just getting out of bed. He thought about telling Dean but he didn't want to worry him, he'd had enough on his plate recently without Sam whining about a small bug.

It was only when he woke up in the middle of the night, coughing so hard it felt like he was going to cough up an organ that he realised he might need more help. The coughing had stopped but he couldn't seem to be able to draw enough breath. It felt like someone was smothering him, and he reached over trying to wake up Dean.

"De..." Sam was panicking now, he knew he'd pass out soon if he couldn't get enough oxygen. It seemed as if the emergency had woken Dean up as Sam shut his eyes against the onslaught of bright light.

"Sam? What's going on?" Dean rasped sleepily. Sam couldn't answer him though, he could only focus on his breathing, he could see black spots now and knew he needed help.

"Sam? Shit" Sam heard Dean say as if he was speaking underwater and he could see Dean leaping off the bed and then Dean was suddenly in front of him grabbing his face. But Dean was talking too fast, he couldn't understand the shapes that his mouth was making; he let his head drop onto Dean's shoulder knowing that Dean was here and Dean would make it all better.

* * *

Dean was trying, and failing, to keep calm, he'd woken up to hear Sam coughing and spluttering but it was only when he looked over and saw Sam, pale and white-knuckling his sheets as he tried to draw in a breath that he'd shot up out of bed and rushed over to Sam. He got a closer look at Sam and hated what he saw, his lips were tinged blue and his eyes were wide and panicked.

He grabbed Sam's face and tried to calm him down, "Hey Sam. Look at me Sammy, keep your eyes on 're going to be fine." Dean could see that he wasn't getting through to Sam and Dean reached for his phone just as Sam's head lolled and rested on his shoulder. Dean dialled 911 and asked for the ambulance service.

Dean was talking to the operator while he prayed that the paramedics would get there soon.

"Is he breathing?" Dean heard the woman say, and god he wished he never had to hear that again. Dean lifted Sam off his shoulder and checked that Sam was still breathing, luckily he was.

"He's breathing, but it's really quick and shallow," he relayed the information back to the phone and heard the woman's reply, "Okay Dean, do you know the recovery position? I'm going to need you to put Sam in it while you wait. I have to go now but the paramedics are less than a minute away."

Dean wished she could stay on the phone, the company was greatly welcomed but he carried on and as gently as he could, lay Sam down on his back and got him into a position which would make it easier for him to breathe. He concentrated on trying to wake Sam up, not sure if it was helping but knowing that he had to do something, doing something meant he wasn't thinking and over thinking the consequences.

He heard the paramedics knock on the door and he rushed over to let them in, "Please hurry,he's over on the bed"

"Okay Dean, I'm Dixie and that's Jeff, can you tell me how long he's been unconscious?" the female paramedic started talking to him as his partner went over to Sam.

"About 10 minutes, I woke up and he was coughing and couldn't breath and then he passed out."

"Has he had any other problems recently?" Dixie asked. She could hear Sam wheezing and immediately put on an oxygen mask knowing that his O2 levels must be dangerously low right now.

"Yeah, he's been sick for the last week, we took him to a clinic but they said it was just the flu." Dean rattled off, he hesitated and then asked, "what's wrong with him?"

"We're not sure yet but we'll take him in and they can run some tests on him." Jeff said. By now, they had attached Sam to a pulse oximeter and were loading him up onto a stretcher.

"You can come with us but you have to stay out of the way alright?" Dean reluctantly agreed, knowing it was the only way to stay close to Sam. He grabbed Sam's hand tightly and gave it a squeeze and he got an unexpected response.

"unggh" Sam moaned, where was Dean? he couldn't find him, he tried to move his head but found that he had an oxygen mask on. He moved it away from his face and tried calling out to Dean, "De..." how was he already out of breath? Luckily, he felt a strong hand put the oxygen mask back on his face, "Sammy you have to keep this on, it's helping you breathe." Sam looked over to where the voice was coming from and saw Dean, he immediately relaxed, "Dean, you're here."

"Course I am Sam, where else would I be?"

"Thought.." Sam tried to draw in a breath, "you'd gone. De, can't," Sam tried to suck in air but he couldn't even with the extra oxygen.

Dean frowned as he saw Sam struggling and heard the monitor next to Sam blaring out a warning. "What does that mean? What's going on?"

"Sir, just try to stay calm," Jeff said to Dean and then turned his attention to Sam who had passed out again. "Dix, step on it, this kid's sats are dropping quickly, I'm going to have to intubate."

Dean had to look away as they forced a tube down his baby brothers mouth, he was petrified now, Sam couldn't breathe on his own and was being rushed to hospital when he was fine just over a week ago.

They pulled into the emergency department and Dean was left stunned as a team of doctors swarmed around his brother and whisked him off. He followed and while he didn't understand most of what they were saying he did catch a few phrases and he didn't like what he heard:"respiratory distress" "not breathing independently." He tried to follow them into resus but was pushed back by an orderly who told him he had to stay in the waiting room and that someone would be out to talk to him shortly. Dean didn't see the point of kicking up a fuss so he went into the mercifully quiet waiting room and collapsed into a chair waiting for any further news.


	3. Chapter 3

_Sorry it's taken so long to update this, I've been super busy with school and exams and such. Also the finale, like wow! I'm still recovering! This is a bit of a shorter chapter and there will probably only be one more chapter after this. _

_**CHAPTER 3**_

It was two hours later and there still wasn't any word on Sam, Dean was sick with worry and he was about to kick up a fuss if someone didn't come and tell him something soon. He didn't want to think about what could be taking them so long. The only thing that was consoling him right now was that he knew that if the worst had happened he would have been told about it. Just then he was bought out of his musings when the door opened and an elderly doctor walked in, "Family of Sam Wesson?" In a second Dean was out of his seat and bombarding the doctor with questions, "How's Sam? He's okay right? Please tell me he's okay."

"I'm Doctor Brent; I've been looking after your brother."

"So he's not… he's still alive isn't he?"

"Yes," the doctor quickly said, "and he's doing as well as can be expected for now, would you like to follow me and we can talk about this somewhere more private." Dean followed, relieved that his brother was fighting but he still felt uneasy and he could tell he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear. He was led into the doctor's office and took a seat opposite the doctor, "What's wrong with my brother doc? What took you so damn long?"

"Mr Wesson, when Sam was bought in here, he was in acute respiratory distress meaning he couldn't get enough oxygen into his lungs. Now we've stabilised him but we've had to put him on a ventilator to as he wasn't able to breathe on his own. We're running a series of test to try and determine what caused this and we have an idea of what it might be. We need a bit more help figuring out what caused this and I was wondering if there's any chance that Sam could have been exposed to any rodents recently?"

Dean was a bit taken aback by this question but answered nevertheless, "Umm yeah… a couple weeks back we stayed in this pretty grotty place; could have been some rats there."

"Okay that pretty much confirms it, we'll finish running the tests in the lab but at this point I think your brother is suffering from Hantavirus Pulmonary Syndrome or HPS."

The doctor had said it with such a grim expression that Dean was petrified, he had no clue what it was but it sounded serious. "What is that? You can cure it right?"

"It's not quite that simple I'm afraid. It's an extremely severe disease that's attacking his respiratory system. At this point he's in the ICU and we've got him on oxygen therapy, but I'm sorry to say that there is no cure for this. There is a possibility that with careful monitoring, Sam's body will be able to heal itself but we'll just have to see how it goes."

Dean could feel himself shaking but he couldn't stop, his brother was in the ICU for god's sake and it was all his fault. He shouldn't have left Sam to clean that house by himself; he left him and now his baby brother was fighting for his life. "Can I see him?" Dean stuttered out.

"Of course, you'll have to wear protective gear before you go in though." The doctor said as he motioned for Dean to follow him down the hallway.

* * *

Dean looked stupid, he knew decked out in full body protective suit and face mask that he must, but he didn't care as long as he could see Sammy.

Doctor Brent stopped outside Room 132, "Okay now it's going to be a bit of a shock, there will be lots of tubes and wires and he is slightly feverish but try and talk to him, you never know, he might be able to hear you," he finished speaking as he opened the door.

Dean walked in and was taken aback by how many wires there were coming from Sam's body, it made him look so small and fragile. He felt like throwing up but that wouldn't help anyone, instead he buried his fear and stepped lightly over to Sam's bed and sat down next to him.

"Hey little brother, I'm here now." He waited a few moments for any sign of recognition but received none, "You should wake up Sammy, they've got me all dressed up in plastic, you'd love to see it." He still couldn't get over how weird it was to see Sam so still, so silent; with the only sound showing that he was actually alive being the constant whooshing of the vent. Dean felt a tear slide down his face, he wiped it away and continued, "You've got to get better Sam, I need to tell you that I'm sorry. I'm sorry I left you behind to clean up, I should have helped, hell I should have made sure we had a proper place to stay rather than some shit hole. The doctors say you can get better, so you got to fight for me Sammy. Besides who else am I going to talk to about all the hot nurses?" Dean finished speaking and rested his head next to Sam's arm feeling the heat radiating off him, he was exhausted and he knew there was nothing to do but wait so that when Sam finally did decide to wake up and get better, Dean would be right here waiting for him.


End file.
